feather light touches
by tinglingsensation
Summary: Pete and Matt have a routine after each fight. And one evening, their routine takes a whole new level. Pete/Matt slash. romantic lemon :P


Healing

To bigSEED. Because she requested lemony stuff and who am I to deny her that :P

Feather light touches

„I'd say we gave it to them bloody buggers!" Pete grinned as he helped Matt get to his feet.

"Damn right we did." The American retorted with a proud grin.

He had a scratch on his face, but apart from that, he seemed unscathed. Pete checked shortly for any damages on his own body, and found only some shallow cuts and a bruise on his chest. He imagined he had some bruises on his face as well, but he didn't have a mirror right now, so he let it go.

It was only at the Abbey when he realized he was actually quite exhausted, and felt the beginnings of a headache forming. He gulped down his beer and looked for Matt. The brunette looked equally exhausted, so Pete stood up and strolled over to him.

"What d'you say, we take a leave?"

Matt looked up.

"I already thought about that too, but last time I checked, you didn't live with me, so why should _we _take a leave?"

Pete grinned. "One, my shower's broken, and I don't want to spend the next few days stinking like a wet dog. And two, I'm not in the mood for walking right now and you're the one with a car."

Matt grumbled but didn't complain. He stood up, settled his tab and left, followed by Pete.

Arriving at Matt's, Pete walked straight into the bathroom.

"Hey!" Matt bellowed from outside. Pete, already half undressed, opened the door and grinned at the seething brunette.

"What? Want to join me?" Casting a quick glance at the shower, he said "I'm afraid it's not quite big enough, but you could still watch if that's okay…" He winked at a Matt, who spluttered and blushed, and closed the door.

After he had properly cleaned himself, he strolled out of the bathroom, a towel loosely slung around his waist. Matt was sitting on the couch, watching TV. Without looking up, he remarked, "Taking a shower's okay, but I'd appreciate it if you did your wanking when you're alone. Or what took you so long?" Pete grinned and slumped down on the couch next to Matt.

"Are you planning to stay the night or what?" Matt asked indignantly.

Pete grinned. "I know that some people would appreciate it if I walked around like that, but I'm not in the mood to fight off drooling women trying to ravish me. Or drooling men, at that point." He winked at Matt again.

Matt rolled his eyes. "Ha ha. Sorry to tell you, but you don't look that great right now. He pointed at Pete's chest where a large bruise was currently colouring purplish-blue. "I guess the only women or _men_ interested are doctors right now."

"Aw. You break my heart." Pete looked down his chest. "I think this makes me look rather manly."

Matt rolled his eyes again. "Yeah. A Manly Panda, or what." At Pete's puzzled gaze, he said, "Looked into a mirror recently?" And pointed at his left eye. Pete lifted a finger to touch the skin around it and winced.

Matt stood up. "I'm gonna take a shower now. You can sleep on the couch if you want to. And, please, put some clothes on. Blankets are I that small cupboard in the hall." With that, he turned around and went to the bathroom.

Sighing, Pete pulled on his boxers and his tank top, both of which were still relatively clean. He looked at his sweater and his jeans. They were encrusted with dirt and blood, as was his coat. He sighed. He went to the kitchen sink and started cleaning his clothes so they were a bit less horrible to look at.

Then, he fetched blankets from the cupboard and settled on the couch comfortably. He grabbed the remote and zapped through the channels until he found a nice old western. He sighed and snuggled down into the blankets. They smelled nicely of lavender, surely Shannon had placed it there. But it also smelled of Matt, and Pete smiled involuntarily. He breathed in deeply and fell asleep almost instantly.

He awoke when someone switched off the TV, but remained with eyes closed. He expected Matt to go to his room, but instead, the American pulled the blankets up and tucked them securely around Pete's shoulders. Pete suppressed a content sigh. Then, he felt a feather light brush of fingers against his cheek, before he heard Matt retreating to his room and close the door.

Unsure if he only dreamt it, Pete lifted one hand to his cheek and stroke it absently. Then he smiled and closed his eyes again. If he had dreamt it, it was a nice dream.

xXx

The football season went by, with many games, some lost and some won, and even more fights, most of them extremely satisfying. Pete was sad when autumn came, because it meant that there would be far less fights and games.

The real reason why he was sad about the lack of fights was not that he loved fighting so much, but because of what he would do afterwards. At first, the whole GSE would go and get sloshed at the Abbey, and afterwards, he would go home with Matt.

It had become a tradition for them to go to Matt's flat after every fight, get even more sloshed and watch TV, play cards, or at rare occasions, just talk. Pete spent nearly every night after a fight on Matt's couch, and sometimes they would joke that it was time he moved on to Matt's bed.

Pete knew he was playing a dangerous game, knowing that if Matt noticed the way he was watching him when Matt didn't look, he would get thrown out instantly. Even worse, Matt might tell the others, and Pete didn't even want to imagine what would happen then.

But sometimes, when Pete lay on Matt's couch between the blankets that smelled so nicely of Matt, he would dare to imagine how it would be if Matt didn't reject him, but feel the same. Then he would dare to think of the feather light touches on his cheek or mouth as real, and not think of them as dreams. He would always pretend to fall asleep first, claiming he was the one who always did the most fighting, and therefore had a right to be more tired than Matt. Matt never seemed to object, didn't even mock him.

Instead, he would pull the covers over Pete like he was a child, and then touch his cheek or his mouth ever so lightly with his fingertips. At daytime, Pete would strictly ban those thoughts, knowing he couldn't dare and hope for anything.

xXx

It was another of those evenings, probably the last one, when things changed. They both had followed their routine, Pete would feign sleep, and Matt pulled the covers up to keep him warm. But this night, Matt didn't touch him. He just stood there, why, Pete didn't know, maybe he was watching him, maybe he was thinking.

Then Matt bent down, and Pte knew it, because his smell was all around him now, and Pete knew Matt was closer now than ever before. And without thinking, Pete opened his eyes. And before Matt could stand up and run away, before he could even realize Pete was awake, Pete pulled him close and pressed his lips to Matt's.

Matt made a muffled noise of shock, and pushed against Pete's chest, but Pete didn't release him, he grabbed his shoulders instead and pulled him even closer, so their chests were almost touching. He deepened the kiss, in the desperate hope to get as much as possible out of it before Matt would pull away, and yell at him and hate him.

But Matt didn't push him away. Instead, he steadied himself by placing his hands left and right of Pete's head and straddled Pete's hips. And when Pete hesitantly tried to gain access to his mouth, he granted, with passion, and Pete could only wonder if this was a dream.

But it wasn't and Pete was only too aware of that. He was aware of Matt straddling him, pressing himself against his groin, hell, rubbing himself against it. And Pete's hips answered, out of their own accord, and the friction was incredible, and beautiful, and Pete hoped that this would never end.

With a movement he didn't think was possible in his aroused and inebriated state, he flipped them around, so Matt was under him now, and at his mercy. He broke the kiss, allowing Matt to breathe, and kissed a line down Matt's jaw, down his neck, to his shirt, which he began unbuttoning.

He rolled his hips, and Matt rolled his hips at the same time, and the friction had even increased, and Pete felt how hard Matt was, and made Matt feel how hard he was in return. He heard Matt groan, and felt his hands stroke his hair absently. They travelled down to his shoulders, where they clutched almost painfully, when Pete bit down tenderly on Matt's collarbone and soothed it with his tongue instantly afterwards.

Then, Pete lifted his head again and locked eyes with Matt, still rolling his hips and creating that incredible friction. Then they crashed their mouths together once more, passionately, and brutal, and Pete thought he even tasted blood. But he didn't mind the pain, because this was Matt who was causing it, and how could this be anything else than beautiful?

He let his hands explore Matt's half exposed chest, and then opened his own shirt to feel Matt's skin against his. He pushed their shirt aside and he gasped, or maybe it was Matt gasping, he didn't know, when their skins touched. Matt felt hot against him, as if he was on fever, and sweat was forming on both their skins.

And then Pete's hands travelled downwards, as if they had their own mind, and opened the fly of Matt's jeans, and then his own, and then the only thing separating them there was the thin cloth of both their boxers. And it felt amazing, almost too amazing to be real, and he rolled his hips against Matt, and Matt answered. And when Pete locked eyes with Matt again, he knew he was close, that they both were so close.

He smiled suddenly, he didn't know why, but he decided it was because he was lucky right now. And Matt answered that smile. And then he closed his eyes and threw his head back and tensed under Pete, and came with a shout. Pete bit his lips and watched, and then he came as well, from that incredible friction and from that beautiful look on Matt's face.

He decided that this had to be heaven, with stars sparkling in front of his eyes, and he saw nothing but Matt's face.

When the last shudders of their orgasms had ceased, Pete slumped down on Matt's chest and planted a kiss on the soft skin there. Matt tensed for a moment, and Pete thought that he would leave or shout at him, but then he felt two arms wrap around him and he knew that Matt would not go away.

He lifted his face to Matt's and their lips met again, with tender, feather light touches.

**A/N: **Ok wow, that's a lot different from what I expected it to be, less lemony, sort of. : P

I hope you like it any way, because I must admit I'm quite proud of it.

I must admit, I'd love to continue that one, maybe not as a story, but like glimpses into their lives after what happened. What do you think? Please review and tell me!


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